I Scream For Ice Cream
by tutncleo
Summary: Gibbs plus Tony plus Ice Cream equals Plot, what plot? Major slash warning.


**I Scream For Ice Cream**

"Un-fucking believable!" Tony fumed to his reflection. He was standing in his bedroom, talking to himself in the full length mirror affixed to the back of the door, completely ignoring the fact that he was stark naked. "Did you completely lose your mind?" he asked himself, as he ran a hand through his hair, making the strands on top stand on end. "Don't you like your job? Decided to get fired this time, rather than just leaving?" He paused, as if waiting for the reflection to answer him.

"_Maybe I don't like vanilla, ever thought of that, Boss?"_ he mimicked in an overly suggestive voice.

"That's what you say to your boss? Do you think he's stupid? Completely out of the loop?" That last question stopped his rant cold. 'Out of the loop – oh sweet Jesus – Gibbs _is_ out of the loop. He's a pop culture illiterate. That just might be what saves me. There's no way he could have got that, is there?' he thought to himself, as he turned away from the mirror, wishing he were more confident in that conclusion. As he paced around the room, paying no attention to where he was going, his feet became entangled in the clothes he'd shed and then dropped on the floor when he'd first gotten home.

"Shit!" he cursed aloud, as he stumbled. Looking down he saw what he'd tripped on. Bending, he swept the offending articles of clothing up, putting his hand directly on the half dried, and half still sticky mess that had led him to dump the clothes on the floor in the first place. "Damn, damn, damn," he chanted as he carried the clothes to the hamper, threw them in, and then headed to the shower.

He'd been on a stakeout all day long, stuck in a car with Gibbs for six endless hours. Not that there was anything wrong with Gibbs. Far from it. To Tony, Gibbs was pretty close to perfect. Tony had decided that the very first time he'd met the man, and his opinion of the NCIS team leader had only improved since then. That was the problem. Tony had moved from merely admiring Gibbs, to lusting after him within his first month at the agency, and the ensuing years had not dampened his desire. He'd spent all that time secretly longing for Gibbs.

Being in an enclosed space alone with Gibbs, smelling him, being the sole recipient of his attention, had been like torture. At one point during the afternoon Tony had caught himself staring at his boss' hands, daydreaming about what it would be like to be held and kissed by him. When he'd glanced at Gibbs' face, he'd been horrified to find the older man studying him with a contemplative expression. Then, to make matters worse, he had felt himself blush clear up to his ears. When their suspect, Petty Officer Gregory Reynolds, had finally shown up, Tony had been relieved to get out of the car to apprehend him. It had felt like being released from prison. Tony had actually been glad when the man had run, and he'd had to give chase, leaving Gibbs to follow in the car. It had allowed him to channel all of his sexual frustration into something physical. Of course, he hadn't bargained on Reynolds running smack dap into an ice cream push cart, which had then tipped over, spilling out its content all over the pavement. In the struggle to subdue him, Tony had ended up rolling in over ten gallons worth of ice cream. By the time Gibbs had pulled the car up, Tony had the man cuffed but was covered head to toe in the rapidly melting mess.

The questioning hadn't taken long once they got the petty officer back to the yard. Five minutes alone with Tony in the interrogation room had been all it took. Tony had been pissed. He was sticky, and his body ached from having had to wrestle the man into submission, although earlier he'd assured Gibbs he was fine and didn't need to see Ducky. All he'd had to do was raise his voice, let his anger show, and Reynolds had owned up to killing his buddy by accident in a drunken brawl. Half an hour later, Tony had handed his report to Gibbs and asked if he was done for the day, telling him he really wanted to go home and get cleaned up.

"What's the matter, DiNozzo? Don't like ice cream?" Gibbs had cracked.

"I like ice cream just fine. Maybe I don't like _vanilla_, ever thought of that, Boss?" he'd fired back.

The minute the words were out of his mouth, he'd wanted to snatch them back. He'd been more than a little worried he'd slipped up, had let his voice broadcast the double entendre. The look Gibbs had shot his way hadn't helped. It had been part Gibbs' stare, part something he hadn't been able to interpret, and that made him very uneasy. All the way home he'd replayed it in his mind, trying to decide if Gibbs had caught on, or what that look had meant. That was how he had ended up standing in his bedroom earlier, chastising himself in the mirror.

'Better hope you're right, and Gibbs didn't get the reference,' he told himself as he let the hot water wash away the dried ice cream. 'He's not very likely to have been amused.' After he'd shampooed and scrubbed himself clean, rubbing gingerly over the bruises that were already starting to blossom on his right hip and arm, he stepped out of the shower. Tony dried himself off, and then wrapped the fluffy white bath towel around him. He was combing his hair when the doorbell rang. 'Just what I need!' he thought as he tossed the comb on the counter and went to see who was there.

"Yeah?" he demanded in exasperation, as he yanked the door open. There stood Gibbs, a brown paper bag in hand, and a surprised look on his face.

"Boss?" Tony blurted. He stood in the doorway gaping at the other man, who seemed just as content to stare back at him.

"Gonna ask me in?" Gibbs finally grunted.

"Um, yeah, sure." Then, suddenly aware he was wearing only a damp towel, Tony added, "Make yourself at home. I'm just gonna…." And he gestured to the towel, then wished he hadn't when he realized his body was reacting to Gibbs' presence. Afraid to even check to see if his boss had noticed, Tony turned and fled into the apartment, leaving Gibbs to trail along behind.

Tony heard Gibbs shut the front door, while he was hurrying towards the bedroom. 'What in the hell was Gibbs doing here?' he asked himself as he pulled a pair of sweatpants out of a drawer. Was this where he got the riot act read to him, or worse, where Gibbs told him to hit the road? 'Wouldn't that be the perfect capper on the day? No one to blame but yourself, Anthony,' he silently scolded as he slid the towel off and the pants on. For a second he stood there, letting himself wonder what would happen if he just stayed in his room, leaving Gibbs alone in the living room. Wouldn't it be nice if that could solve the problem, if Gibbs would just get tired of waiting for him and go home? Then they could start afresh on Monday, as if he'd never opened his big mouth. But that wasn't very likely to happen. 'Quit stalling. Isn't gonna help,' he told himself. Sighing, he headed off to face the music.

When he got to the other room, Gibbs was on the couch, his suit jacket neatly folded over the back of sofa. Taking the chair adjacent, Tony sat with downcast eyes and waited for the fireworks to begin. When several minutes passed, and nothing had been said, Tony looked up. Gibbs was just sitting there, studying him. He didn't look angry, or irritated, or ready to pounce. He looked….Tony wasn't sure how to describe the way Gibbs looked. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen that particular expression on the older man's face before, and it bothered him that he couldn't define it. This was the third time today he hadn't been able to translate Gibbs' expression. And it was weird that they were just sitting there, saying nothing. Tony didn't like the silence, it was making him even more uneasy.

"Um, why are you here, Boss?" he finally asked, not able to let the stillness continue.

"You wouldn't go see Duck. Came to check on you," Gibbs answered.

"I'm fine," was Tony's automatic response.

"Can see that," Gibbs muttered. Tony watched as Gibbs' eyes zeroed in on the bruises along his side that the sweats didn't hide. Suddenly he felt very exposed; the pair of sweatpants no longer offering sufficient coverage. He crossed his arms and rested them against his belly, in an attempt to hide the evidence of his lie.

"Just bruises, didn't even hit my head this time," he joked, not meeting Gibbs' eyes.

The tension in the room was now palpable. Tony studied his toes as if they were the most fascinating things he'd ever seen. 'It's Gibbs' turn to talk,' he silently told himself. For once, he couldn't think of a thing to say, and wasn't sure he should, anyway. Nothing was going as he'd expected, and he was feeling seriously off kilter. Tony nearly jumped out of his skin when a warm hand grasped his chin and lifted his head up. Gibbs was standing directly in front of him.

Tony stared up at Gibbs, and Gibbs stared down at him. Tony swallowed, trying to ease the sudden dryness in his throat. Gibbs' presence was overpowering, and he could feel his body once again responding to it.

Gibbs reached out with his left arm, and now he was holding Tony's face with both hands. They stayed like that, a frozen tableau, for what felt like forever. Under Gibbs' hands, Tony's face burned. Unable to resist, he moved his head slightly, just for the pleasure of feeling the skin on Gibbs' palms rub against his checks. Gibbs must have taken that as tacit approval, because he gave a little tug, pulling Tony to his feet. Now they were eye to eye, their bodies inches away from each other, and still neither man blinked. Finally Tony was beginning to understand what those looks might have meant. Gibbs' eyes were black now rather than blue, the irises completely obscured by his glistening pupils, and Tony knew his must be a mirror image. As Gibbs pulled Tony's face closer, Tony realized they weren't going to talk anymore; they'd somehow moved past that. When Gibbs' lips finally claimed his, Tony stopped thinking altogether.

It was like being caught in a vortex. Tony sank into the kisses, totally unaware of when his arms wrapped around Gibbs, clinging to him as if he were a life raft. There was no hesitance on Gibbs' part either, only desire, need, and power. Gibbs wasn't asking; he was taking. And Tony was freely giving. When Gibbs pulled his head back slightly, Tony shuddered.

"Time to stop is now," Gibbs whispered huskily into Tony's ear, finally breaking the silence that had wrapped around them and drawn them together.

Tony's answer was to arch his head back, so Gibbs' lips slid along his jaw line until they settled on his neck. Then Tony's hands moved lower, and he pulled their bodies even closer together, hip to hip, erection against erection. When Gibbs began to lick his way along his jugular, Tony gasped in pleasure.

"No stopping," Tony begged.

"No. No stopping," Gibbs agreed, his breath tickling against Tony's skin, as one of his hands slid down until it came to rest on Tony's chest. Sure fingers stroked and gently pulled at Tony's nipples, teasing and soothing in equal measure. By the time Gibbs' mouth took their place, Tony was keening softly.

"Bedroom," Tony pleaded.

"Uh huh," Gibbs hummed against the sensitized hard brown nub on Tony's chest, without fully releasing it from his mouth. Gibbs' hands were now lightly running up and down his back, occasionally dipping down far enough to allow a finger to trace along the back seam of Tony's sweatpants.

Tony was lost in sensation, his knees threatening to give out as his whole body tingled, and the need grew stronger. This was better than all the fantasies he'd ever had about Gibbs, and he wanted more. "Please," he managed to moan from deep in his throat.

He could feel Gibbs chuckle. "Please what, Tony?" Gibbs asked in a gravelly voice that should have been outlawed.

"More… bedroom…. please," Tony begged, not quite able to form a coherent sentence. And yet he didn't release the grip he had on Gibbs' hips, as he was sure that was the only thing still holding him up.

Gibbs raised his head, claiming Tony's lips once more, his tongue sliding between the younger man's lips, taking possession. When Tony went completely limp in his arms, Gibbs broke off the kiss, nodded, and whispered, "Bedroom," as he released Tony. Gibbs tried to move, but Tony was still holding on to him. "Tony?"

Tony was afraid to let loose of Gibbs. It all seemed so unreal. He'd wanted this for so long, had convinced himself it would never happen, and now that it was, he was still having trouble believing it. What if when he let go, Gibbs disappeared? That seemed as probable to Tony as what had just happened.

"Don't you want to go to the bedroom?" Gibbs murmured softly. When Tony looked up at Gibbs, he saw the first sign of hesitancy since the whole bizarre thing had begun. That helped to snap him out of the inertia that had taken control of his body.

" Yes! Bedroom, now," he said in a rush, as he finally let go of Gibbs' hips and reached for his arm to pull him along with him.

Gibbs laughed, the sound going straight to Tony's groin. "Hang on. Let me grab something," he told Tony, who was now impatiently tugging on him. Tony reluctantly let him go, and watched as Gibbs went back over to the couch. Leaning down, the older man picked up the paper bag that was sitting on the side table.

"What's in there?" Tony asked, realizing he'd forgotten all about the bag Gibbs had with him when he'd arrived.

"You'll see," Gibbs smirked, and said no more. Tony's desire to get to the bedroom outweighed his curiosity, as he led Gibbs out of the living room.

The minute they got through the bedroom door, Gibbs wrapped his free arm around Tony's waist, pulling him close again. Their lips fused, as if drawn together by an irresistible magnetic force. This time Tony couldn't resist grinding his throbbing groin against the other man, desperately seeking some relief from the aching need. Gibbs immediately pulled his hips back, denying Tony that release.

"Not yet," he softly growled at Tony, as he started to push him backwards towards the bed. When Tony's calves touched the edge of the bed, he let himself fall backwards, pulling Gibbs with him. They landed on the bed in a tangle of limbs. As Gibbs repositioned himself quickly, so he was straddling Tony's legs, the bag brushed against Tony's bare stomach.

"Damn, what _is_ that?!" Tony gasped, as cold seeped through the brown paper, sending goose bumps chasing across his skin, which only multiplied when Gibbs began tracing a finger along them.

"Ice cream. Chocolate ice cream," Gibbs told him, right before he bent down and licked his tongue across one of Tony's nipples.

"Were you planning on having dessert?" Tony panted, as Gibbs continued his ministrations, too caught up in what Gibbs was doing to really put everything he had just said together.

"Something like that." Gibbs looked at him. Tony's eyes were shut, and the tip of his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. Gibbs knew he was drifting on sensation alone. Keeping one hand running along the flesh on Tony's belly and chest as he sat back up, he used the other one to quietly slide the container of ice cream from the bag. Once he had it out, he very carefully jimmied the lid off. The ice cream at the top of the container had melted, leaving a rich gooey layer of creamy chocolate syrup. Leaning over, Gibbs was able to set the container on the side table. He dipped a finger in, coating it with the melted ice cream. He then brought the finger over, and rubbed it across the already hard nub of Tony's left nipple.

Tony yelped as the cold liquid hit his skin, and his eyes flew open, searching for the source. He had barely enough time to register on what Gibbs had done, before the older man lowered his face and lapped up the cream. As Tony watched through rapidly glazing eyes, Gibbs reached over and covered his finger in ice cream again. This time he smeared it on Tony's other nipple, before repeating the process of licking it off. The combination of the cold from the ice cream and the warmth of Gibbs' mouth was almost unbearable, and Tony moaned as his hips involuntarily thrust up. Again Gibbs' hand traveled back to the container, but this time he dipped two fingers in, which he then traced Tony's lips with. When Tony's lips parted so he could taste the sweet liquid, Gibbs slid his fingers into the warmth of his mouth.

Tony ran his tongue along them, licking the ice cream off, and then began to suck on the fingers, causing Gibbs' breath to catch. When he looked into Tony's eyes, the sheer wantonness reflected there made him want more. Slowly he rotated his fingers so that they brushed along the top of Tony's mouth, causing him to shiver in response. Then Gibbs slowly pulled them out, and shifted so he was no longer straddling Tony. Sliding his hands down along the sides of Tony's body, being careful when he reached the bruised area, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of the sweatpants and began to pull. Tony lifted his hips up, and Gibbs was able to slide the pants off, revealing the rest of Tony's body. It was even more beautiful than Gibbs had imagined, and he took a second just to appreciate it.

Tony spread his legs slightly and pulled his right knee up, planting his foot on the bed, in an unmistakable invitation. His penis was fully erect and already beginning to leak, and his breathing had become uneven. Gibbs crawled between the open legs.

"Shouldn't you undress?" Tony managed to ask.

"Eventually," Gibbs answered. He reached his two fingers back into the carton, and this time he dug a bit deeper, pulling out a small scoop of still solid ice cream. But instead of putting it on Tony, he brought his hand to his own mouth, and sucked the ice cream in. Then, leaning down and bracing himself on one arm, he kissed Tony, feeding him the ice cream with his tongue, and causing Tony to make little mewling sounds. Tony reached up and wrapped his arms around Gibbs' neck, trying to pull him all the way down. "Soon," Gibbs promised, as he resisted. He wasn't done playing. "Not quite done with dessert."

Tony just keened in response.

This time, when Gibbs had his fingers covered in ice cream, he reached down and ran them along Tony's cock, causing the younger man to jerk and actually howl. Tony reached out as if to stop him, but Gibbs grabbed his hands and pushed them down onto the mattress. Then, before Tony had even quieted down, Gibbs' mouth was on him, enveloping him. The chocolate, mixed with Tony's own natural juices, created a heady combination that Gibbs found enthralling. Gibbs ran his tongue up and down the underside of Tony's shaft, savoring the flavor. When Tony began to thrust into his mouth, he knew he had to end the game.

Reluctantly he eased his mouth off of Tony, and released his hands. Tony's right hand shot out and grabbed Gibbs'. With his eyes locked on him, Tony drew the hand up to his mouth, and began to run his tongue along each finger, wiping away any remaining traces of the ice cream. His tongue teased and tickled, sliding between the fingers, grazing along the palm. He didn't stop until he could feel Gibbs' hand begin to quiver slightly. Then, looking entirely too smug, he whispered, "I'm done with dessert too, now." And he let go of Gibbs' hand, as he ran his tongue over his own lips.

Gibbs straightened up, reached down, and pulled his polo and t-shirt off as a unit. Tony lay still, watching the unveiling of what he had thought he could never have. Then Gibbs pushed himself off the bed, toed off his shoes, and leaned down to remove his socks. Standing back up, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out two small foils, which he tossed on the bed beside Tony. As Tony glanced down at the small packet of lube and the condom, Gibbs unbuckled his belt. Tony looked up in time to watch Gibbs' cock, freed from the constraints of his pants and boxers, spring up to meet his stomach. It was everything Tony had imagined, and more.

Gibbs wasted no time getting back on the bed between Tony's legs. He leaned down for one last kiss, and whispered, "Face to face?"

Tony wrapped his legs around Gibbs' hips in response.

Gibbs tore open the foil of lube with his teeth and squirted some onto his now clean fingers. Then, reaching down between the folds of Tony's ass, he searched for the opening. When he found it, he ran a finger round and round the hole, occasionally slipping the tip inside. Tony pushed impatiently against him, but Gibbs wasn't going to hurry this. He'd waited just as long as Tony had, never suspecting until today that he stood a chance with the younger man, and now that he was here, he wasn't going to do anything that might harm him. After he had one finger in, and was sure Tony was ready, he gently eased in another, sliding them slowly in and out, stretching Tony's tight muscles. After the chill of the ice cream and lube, Tony's velvety heat was intoxicating. When Gibbs brushed against the sweet spot, Tony began to beg again. "Please, please," he moaned and he thrust against Gibbs' hand.

Sliding yet another finger in, "Soon," Gibbs promised.

Eventually Tony's moans morphed into a funny little humming sound, and Gibbs knew he was ready. Slowly pulling his fingers out, he quickly opened the condom, slid it on and covered it with the remaining lube. Then he lined himself up and gently began to press in. Tony's legs, which had fallen off of Gibbs and onto the bed while he had opened him up, wrapped back around Gibbs' body. As he continued to slide in, Tony's muscles clenched around him, and Gibbs groaned in pleasure. When he finally bottomed out, he began to slowly move. Tony matched every thrust with one of his own. Knowing neither of them would last very long, Gibbs reached down and wrapped his fingers around Tony's cock, gliding his hand up and down the entire length of it. Tony's humming became more staccato, and his eyes narrowed to mere slits. Tony was close, Gibbs knew. He increased his speed, driving more forcefully into Tony. Suddenly, Tony gasped, and in the next instant began to come. Gibbs continued to run his hand up and down Tony's shaft, as Tony's muscles convulsed around his own cock, tipping him over the edge.

When they were both spent, Gibbs eased gently out of Tony, grabbed the towel that lay on the other side of the bed, and did his best to clean them both up. Then he stretched out beside Tony, drawing the younger man into his arms. Tony was still working on catching his breath as Gibbs pressed light little kisses along his forehead, eyes and nose. Gibbs could feel Tony's heart beating against his own chest, and he knew his must be pounding as well. Tony curled into him, nestling his head in the crook between Gibbs' neck and chin, his arms wrapped tightly around Gibbs.

"That was…." Tony's voice faded away as he searched for words.

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed, knowing exactly what Tony meant.

"Never thought," Tony whispered.

"Me either." Gibbs ran a hand through Tony's hair, pushing the bangs back off of his forehead.

"How long?" Tony began again.

"Since you started," Gibbs murmured.

"Why didn't you…."

"Didn't think you would be interested."

Tony tilted his head up and kissed the underside of Gibbs' jaw. "Guess I wasn't too subtle today."

"Not really," Gibbs chuckled slightly as he said that, then kissed Tony's forehead again.

"And the ice cream?"

"I'm not fond of vanilla, either."

The last thing Tony said, before he drifted off to sleep was, "Next time, caramel macchiato flavored."

"Works for me," Gibbs agreed.


End file.
